Her vision sputtered, offering dancing sparkles of white, before dimming and going black. There was an energy flowing through her body, but she was paralyzed. Aware of every molecular shift in her and her surroundings and yet completely detached and powerless. She wasn't sure how to describe it, wasn't sure any words existed that could.

As her bones, muscles, tissue, and everything in between miraculously began to regenerate, her consciousness remained intact, despite her lifeless state. Remained in a protective, suspended stasis. The process was over in a matter of moments, but experiencing the phenomenon felt like an eternity. She caught herself wondering why she didn't have flashbacks like many report after near-death experiences, once crossing back over.

White flashes speckled with blue and green pulsed and dissipated.

Her chest began to puff up, the crushed bone grafting together and solidifying. Blood filling and surging through renewed veins, vessels, and arteries. All of it unseen, but known to be taking place.

Sparks filled with deeper colors, a beautiful cloud-dotted sky started to come into view. A pinprick in the distance, luscious greenery edging the peripherals. Just as suddenly as it had exploded into existence, it was snuffed.

There was an issue of recollecting what exactly had been taking place before reaching such critical mass. It heightened the dislodging from reality. But it was possible to remember. It just took patience. And focus. There weren't any physiological characteristics. More of a fluid shifting of thoughts focusing on moments that were merely sensations. When hitting the mark, the sensations triggered faded, yet vivid, tapestries.

Once dialed in...

A tangled web of images, dreamlike in nature, rushed to her in a flood of emotions.

A man, one stronger and faster than any she had ever encountered, was on a rampage. Or a killing spree. There hadn't been time to investigate details amid intense internal conflict about whether to become involved. To try to stop him. Plus there was the fact that she had skipped breakfast that morning...

Focus.

Police were attempting to subdue him at Faraday Park. They were no match. She had decided to intervene. The weather was a touch on the hot side. Focus. She had confronted the man, but he was uncharacteristically strong. Inhumanly so. And too fast. There was little doubt that he was special, like herself.

Her heart and lungs we remanufactured from what she assumed to be the very fabric of life. Another pinprick arrived and slowly began to widen. The colors more vibrant than the last. The growing tunnel then halted and seemed to have an imaginary tug of war with itself. One moment it was racing back into oblivion, the next it was forcing itself open, widening the panoramic demanding to be revealed.

The man had to be stopped. She was trying the best that she could. But he had bested her, decimating her body faster than she could heal. Maybe he would succeed in completely eliminating her as she had tried to do a handful of times herself. Just to see if it were possible.

Her heart began to beat.

And after an instant that seemed like a lifetime, Molly Carver — or whatever name she was using at the time, she often lost track — lurched skyward, back arched as she gasped for air. Sucking in as much as her lungs would allow, before instinctively reacting to a danger she knew existed in that very moment.

Once on her feet again, Molly saw the savage killer just yards away. He was sprawled out on his side, but was stirring. His attention was focused elsewhere, though. Molly's confusion was greeted by a soft electrical humming sound. Her gaze shifted. Someone who hadn't been there previous to her attempted demise had apparently shown up. Exiting a grey van, its hood and front bumper caved in — smoke curling in the breeze — by means of a ramp jutting out from a side door. Her eyes widened and her breath caught. Oh no. God no.

She immediately made her way towards the newcomer, who was bound to a wheelchair, paying little to no attention to her assailant.

When thinking she was close enough to the young man, she demanded, "What the living hell are you doing here?" Her voice wavered, mixed with confusion and fear. "Do you have any idea what's going on here? What this maniac is capable of?"

Without looking in her direction, the disabled man returned, "It's good to see you too, Mother. It's been a long time. And as much as I would love to play catch up," he signaled with a head nod, "we have a dangerous situation unfolding."

The guttural roar fast approaching proved him right and Molly's fear melted away into anger as she spun around, once again ready to enter battle.

Thanks for reading! What did you think of the piece? Any constructive criticism is welcomed!

It’s been a long while, so I thought I would give a brief look into the reason(s) behind my absence. You’ll have to forgive my potentially awkward, stilted jibber-jabber. It may take some time for me to get warmed up…

Dreams in the Shade of Ink is back with more Flash Fiction for the A to Z Challenge 2017! Last year my segments throughout April painted a puzzled tapestry of prose and I hope to provide some new, entertaining stories that you'll enjoy!

recent META

The A to Z Challenge 2017 is over and it's time to reflect on how the event went! There were booster pack openings, there were storylines and mechanics to observe within the world of Magic: The Gathering!

Join me as I discuss the ups and downs of this year's Magic Mixer theme.

This year for the A to Z Challenge 2017 Meta MTG presents the Magic Mixer! What's that mean? Your guess is as good as mine... What I do know, however, is that this year's theme is obviously still all about Magic: The Gathering!

Join me as I attempt to highlight a different Magic set each day of the challenge in different ways, from pack openings to discussions about a set's storyline and/or mechanics!